“I couldn’t go back to the trail without my stick! The constant ups and downs with 30 pounds on my back were very hard on my knees, and without a stick they would be unbearable. My hiking stick had become an extension of my hand — I was lost without it.”
I ran into an old camping acquaintance Sunday in the Wilson Creek area Sunday and we spent a few minutes updating one another on our travels. Among her recent exploits: a February visit to Roan Mountain.
Roan Mountain in February? I thought. Risky business being above 6,000 feet in the dead of winter. A better time, I thought, would be … right now.
Massive Roan Mountain straddles the North Carolina/Tennessee line, and is popular for many reasons: its vast balds, sweeping views, and endless skies. What it’s best known for outside hiking circles are its expansive rhododendron gardens. These effusive pink blooms have come and gone in other parts of the state, but because of the higher elevation at Roan Mountain, the rhododendron are just now exploding — and just in time for the July 4 holiday weekend now upon us.
There are multiple ways to explore Roan beyond the traditional two-mile drive to the top ($3 entrance fee) and short walk to the actual gardens.
Here are four adventurous ways to celebrate the Fourth in Roan Highlands.
Today, a slideshow.
At the end of May, I helped my daughter move from North Carolina to Salt Lake City for her first job. Along the way, we managed to work in a hike or four. All were spontaneous, there was no planning. These were pretty much of the, ‘Hey! We’re in the Ozarks! Let’s pull over and hike” variety. Roadside hikes that were pretty dang awesome.
We head into the wayback machine again to revisit the timely topic of trail etiquette. The following first appeared here on March 19, 2010. It reappears today, with minor revisions.
Sunday, I was running the bike and bridle trail at Umstead when I came upon a sizable obstacle: a phalanx of hikers bearing backpacks spanned the width of the trail, spilling over onto the shoulders. The trail is quiet generous, a converted fire road that should be capable of handling boatloads of trail users without conflict. Provided those trail users are cognizant of other trail users. Which brings us to today’s topic:
Grr, another creek crossing, or Yippee! Another creek crossing!
Thinking recently about the difference between a good experience and a not-so-good experience, I was reminded of a scouting trip I’d taken in December 2009. Here’s a brief reflection from that trip that originally appeared around the same time.